


no.1 party anthem

by prequels



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 01:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3469916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prequels/pseuds/prequels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Aegon Targaryen, you smell like piss."<br/>Yeah, he wanted to say. I know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no.1 party anthem

**Author's Note:**

> harry potter au, prompt: comfort  
> this was for aryaxaegonweek on tumblr. maybe i'll put some more in here if you guys are interested. lmk

"Aegon Targaryen, you smell like piss."

 _Yeah_ , he wanted to say. _I know._

And for the record, it wasn't because he'd pissed himself, though he was starting to feel awfully close to doing just that. Not only was it their first game of the season, but it was Aegon's first game ever. He'd been reserve seeker ever since fourth year, but now that Ravenclaw's star player, Willas Tyrell, had graduated, he was the team's last resort. Needless to say, he was scared shitless.

If he was being totally honest -- which he so wasn't going to be -- he'd maybe puked a little this morning. Just a little.

"Now I wouldn't exactly pick our first game to be against Gryffindor, especially with such a ..." Allyria searched for the right word, looking at her team nervously. "Such an eclectic team. But this is what we've got. The biggest thing, guys, is don't let 'em get under your skin. I don't care what you've heard, Tarly, Rickon Stark is not a cannibal. Now, for everyone unaware --" Here, she gave a pointed look in Aegon's direction. "Our biggest threats are Elia Sand and Arya Stark. None of us have ever seen Elia play before, so she's a wildcard -- keep your fingers crossed that she's nothing special."

Aegon opened his mouth to elaborate on his cousin's Keeping strategy -- her blind spot was on the left -- but Allyria looked just about to strangle him, so he promptly shut his mouth.

"And of course," she continued. "Arya Stark. It's my last year, guys, and all the time I've been here I've never won a game with that girl on the pitch. She's been starting since first year, and now she's captain in her fifth. We've gotta beat her."

With the pitiful look Captain Dayne gave her team, it was obvious she knew that that wasn't going to happen.

* * *

"Ooh, and Targaryen lets the snitch go again! If only he'd inherited some of his sister's talent. Hey, Aegon! I'll be at the Wasps game over Holidays -- give Rhaenys my number for me, won't ya? I'm sure she could use a few extra hands in the changing room, if you know what I me -- ouch! Ouch! Okay, uh ... Oh! Great save by Elia Sand ..."

Another man might have been homicidal. Aegon just wanted to cry. One of the Frey boys -- even if he wasn't zipping around like a jet, Aegon doubted he'd be able to determine which it was -- flew in circles around him, a taunting expression in his face. Even this sad little third year was a better seeker than he was -- and he didn't have such a big legacy to live up to.

They were above the Gryffindor stands now (just his luck) and Aegon heard jeering from the crowd below. Looking down was his worst decision. Some idiot pointed his wand up (Aegon would bet anything it was a Stark) and Aegon felt a jolt run through his body. The Frey boy began to laugh, and Aegon groaned. His once-platinum hair was now an obnoxious mane of red and gold.

Aegon heard angry shouts go up from the Ravenclaw stands (truthfully, he was surprised any of them had been looking his way) at the recent development. More wands were pointed, and Aegon’s hair grew a blinding shade of blue. With a growl, he quickly muttered a protection charm upon his hair. Theon was too busy laughing in the announcer’s box to even comment.

At that very moment, a cheer went up, shrieks and whistles. The Frey boy looked at Aegon from halfway across the pitch with a superior grin on his pointy little face.

“And Gryffindor catches the snitch!”

* * *

It wasn’t that anyone was being particularly rude Aegon in the locker room -- well, not any more than usual -- but still, he couldn’t help but notice the cold atmosphere of the sweaty room, the tired looks in the eyes of his teammates, the lack of after-game chatter and the avoidance of eye contact. No, no one was being particularly rude, but that didn’t mean everything was a-okay, either.

One by one, the Ravenclaw team exited, dragging their feet and their haphazardly packed sports bags. Silence reigned as they drudged up the hill towards the castle, almost in slow motion.

A bang. The adjacent locker room door slammed open, and out leapt the Gryffindor team, hooting like a madhouse. The entire Ravenclaw team’s blood ran cold, he could tell. They began to speed walk in sync, up the hill. Aegon made the grave mistake of looking over his shoulder to see if they were advancing -- he made eye contact with one of the chasers.

“Targaryen! Targaryen! Hey, Aegon! Where ya going so fast? Y’know, I’ve got some good news for you -- there’s a fifty percent chance you were adopted. It’s either you or your sister, but my bet’s on you.”

When had his own team reached the castle doors, so far ahead? And when had the Gryffindor team nearly caught up to him? Aegon groaned, begging his knees not to quake, as he turned around to face his fate. All six feet and eight inches of Daemon Sand looked just about ready to stomp on him, and he uttered a silent prayer to whatever god was listening, though he doubted he could be more humiliated than he already was.

The Dornishman knocked Aegon’s bag to the ground with a menacing chuckle, his figure looming over the Ravenclaw as his cleats and helmet spilled onto the ground. “I’m drafting a letter to your sister right now,” he announced. “but so far all I’ve got is so sorry for your lo --”

“Sand!” came a bellowing voice. “This is your captain speaking. Don’t you dare try and pretend you forgot it was your turn to clean the showers, you son of a bitch.” It was amusing to Aegon to see the big, menacing bully cower in the glare of a five foot two girl, but he made sure not to let his amusement show, lest he get socked in the face.

With an intimidating huff, the bastard sulked back to his team’s changing rooms. The rest of the team, unamused now that there was no one to torment Aegon, made their way back to the castle.

Aegon bit his lip and looked downward, walking through the castle door, unable to meet the eyes of the two players left -- the Stark siblings. He began to turn around, but the younger one stopped him, forcing him to make eye contact. “Great job today,” Rickon said with a sympathetic smile. Aegon gave a polite nod in his direction.

It was Arya Stark who gave a low, humorless chuckle while entering the castle. “Rickon, have some integrity. Starks aren’t liars.” Aegon felt the tips of his brown ears go red. The Gryffindor patted her younger brother on the shoulder twice, signaling for him to run up ahead a flight. The two walked in silence for a few moments before the girl spoke up again. “Don’t take it too hard. You’re a hell of a lot better than any of us are in Arithmancy.” Aegon hadn’t even known she’d noticed him in her class, and he tried to hide his blush. “No one wants to be compared to their sister. I know better than anyone. And ‘sides, your sister’s a right bitch.”

Aegon couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that came out of his mouth as Arya grinned at the sound. She made to catch up with her brother and he turned towards the West Wing. Before he could get too far, however, he heard her call out, presumably to him. “The common room password is Blackfyre. Be there around nineish. Hope you like firewhiskey.”

How difficult it was to wrap his mind around the long-faced Stark, skirting away with a sly grin, when she seemed to have so easily gotten a hold of him.

* * *

Aegon had a sinking feeling that even if he had just been born yesterday, and was clueless in the ways of man, he would still know that Arya Stark was drunk.

Drunk was an understatement, Aegon mused, though its bitter tone was undermined by the smirk that grew on his face upon watching the sixth year. Gryffindors crowded around the table as Arya stood with her youngest brother -- Rickon, her fellow beater -- atop an old, creaking table, screaming out Kanye West lyrics as if her life depended on it.

In the girl's defense, she was hardly the only kid who was currently shitfaced. In fact, Aegon was pretty much positive he was the only kid in the entire common room who hadn't had one drink. He wasn't a loser -- promise -- he had his reasons. If his roommates smelt one drop of alcohol on him, soon the whole Ravenclaw team would know he went to Gryffindor's celebratory afterparty. Not that he'd had much of a choice.

Gold Digger came to an end, much to everyone's disappointment, and Arya hopped off the table with purpose, determined to get out of the mob before Robb Stark and Edric Storm started singing along to Gwen Stefani.

At least he wasn't the only one here not in red and gold, Aegon rationalized, looking around to spy Theon Greyjoy's green-and-silver tie (that he was currently wrapping around the waist of that ditzy Hufflepuff, Jeyne Poole). He didn't fail to realize that both Sansa and Bran Stark were noticeably absent from their sister's celebration -- he really was the only Ravenclaw, after all.

A strong pat on the back made Aegon jump out of his skin. Of course, right as things couldn't get more uncomfortable, out of the shadows stepped his estranged half brother. And Jon was laughing at him. Aegon couldn’t say he was surprised.

"You look like a right idiot, you know,"  Jon said with a chuckle. Aegon blanched, looking down at himself. We was absolutely sure he'd eradicated himself of any and all blue and silver artifacts before entering the common room, but apparently it hadn't done him very well. Meeting Aegon's confused glance, Jon rolled his eyes. "The hair."

"Shit," Aegon swore. "Goddamn -- I put a protection charm on it so they'd stop messing with me. I had to wash it out -- shit!"

Jon chortled, slapping the Ravenclaw's shoulder and passing by. It was only after he'd left that Aegon realized Jon had somehow slipped a drink into his hand. "Oh no, I don't ..." Aegon tried calling after him, but it was too late. With a resigned shrug, he downed the whole thing in one go.

In retrospect, this wasn't his best idea.

* * *

The scrawny blue-haired boy had no idea when Arya Stark had arrived, and why in God’s name she was dancing with him -- or, rather, on him. The music was too-loud now, some electric beat that thumped through his veins, and Aegon knew if he wanted to avoid suspicion, he’d have to be back at the dorms in negative fifteen minutes. But try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to care. It’d be worth the whole team flogging him if Arya continued to bite her lip for just one more second.

He took a deep breath in, and let it slowly out, his eyes crossing for a moment as he met Arya’s. She laughed, breaking their silence, and draped a pale arm over his shoulder, still swaying and shaking far too much for Aegon to be comfortable.

“Having fun?” She asked suddenly. It was the first time she’d spoken up since he’d encountered her, and her voice, husky and more predatory than it had been this afternoon, sent him reeling.

“Yes -- I mean,” he began, short of breath. He was all too aware of her side against his, her arm reaching behind his head to play with an errant strand of hair, and she seemed all too aware of it too -- he was sure she was purposefully tormenting him. Jon Snow, who was giving him a feral glare from across the room, didn’t seem to have gotten the notice.

“Maybe you should, uh,” he stuttered, looking down and away from the shewolf’s gaze. “You brothers don’t look very happy.”

She had a wicked grin on that said I know, I know, and what are you going to do about it? With a smirk, she wrapped her free hand around his, the one that held his newest drink, and raised it to her lips, taking a long sip before bringing it back down, leaving her hand upon his. Aegon watched, entranced, as the firewhiskey stained her lips and dribbled down her chin. The restraint cause him physical pain, and, in response, he quickly jerked their hands up to his mouth and took a big, ungracious gulp.

“I think I left my … socks in my dorm,” Arya said slowly, biting her lip in such a tempting way that Aegon got the chills. “Would you come get them with me? I’d send one of my brothers, but they can’t get up to the girls’ dorms.” Aegon debated reminding her she was wearing flip flops, before realizing her implication -- his mouth dropped open in a perfect O shape as his legs threatened to give out under him. He’d brought up the obstacle of her brothers and she’d found a loophole. As if he was surprised.

Nodding distantly, having what some might call an out-of-body experience, Aegon followed blankly as Arya let him by the hand to the staircase. From across the room, Jon caught Aegon’s eye just as they were about to ascend, pushing people out of the way in his haste.

“I thought boys couldn’t go up,” Aegon said hurriedly.

“Exactly. My brothers won’t be interrupting.”

“But what about me?”  
With nothing but a mischievous smirk, Arya picked Aegon up, bridal style, and carried him up the steps two at a time. Jon cursed them from below. Aegon knew he should feel humiliated, but all he felt was exhilarated. Arya dropped him at the top and barged into her dorm, with Aegon tentatively following.

Before he knew what was happening, Arya had pushed him against the door frame, slamming it shut, a feral glint in her eyes. Aegon muttered a hasty Colloportus.

“Great job today,” Arya muttered against his neck, echoing her brother from before. Aegon groaned at the sensation, arching his back against her as she placed a rough kiss to his collarbone.

“Oh, c’mon,” he said, breathless. “Stark’s aren’t liars. Have some integrity.” She bit down hard on his pulse point to make him gasp, and took the opportunity to snake her hand down his front.

“Alright, you want honesty?” she countered, lifting a leg to grasp his side. “You smell like piss.” She giggled, and Aegon felt his cheeks redden, as he looked down in shame. She used her forehead to tilt his chin up, running her lips across his jaw as she did so. “I want you to smell like me.”

  



End file.
